Kissing Makes it Better
by Tarmachan
Summary: Based on the 4-panel omake. Hotsuma pricks his finger for the eightieth time while reattaching the buttons to Shuusei's shirt, and Shuusei tries out an unconventional healing method.


**Note: Due to ffnet's content restrictions, some parts have been omitted. The full (more explicit version) can be found here: tarmachan dot livejournal dot com slash 8054 dot html  
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**Spoilers!: Up to the end of (Yen Press) omnibus vol 2, or vol 4 of the regular versions.  
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**British English alert!: "Plaster" is our word for "Band-Aid", for those of you not familiar :)  
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* * *

After all that they'd been through in the past few days, all of the worry and battle and pain, he'd finally plucked up the courage to ask what he might've let slide before. He would've told himself before that his partner was allowed to keep some things to himself, that he would sit patiently waiting just in case he was needed. But everything that'd happened with Ashley had changed his attitude. Something had been wrong with Shuusei for a while now, something he'd been brooding over alone, and Hotsuma had needed to know what it was. He couldn't go through another incident like that again. He just couldn't.

And so he'd confronted his partner, softly demanding to know what it was that'd made him consider leaving everything behind. He'd been there himself once, ready to throw off the shackles of his painful existence, but Shuusei had been the one to pull him back, to reassure him that living was okay, even for someone drenched in so much sin. Now it was his turn to try and support, to be the crutch for his partner, to repay him for that kindness long ago.

As it came spilling out, he realised how much he'd missed over the past few months, if not years. Sure, he'd seen the odd expression flit across the other boy's face, but most of the time he held an impassive mask that was difficult to overcome, even as close as they were. He'd always been clinging to Shuusei, a lifeline to keep hold of whilst pushing everything else away, but recently he'd begun to warm to other people, finally beginning to overcome his fears of rejection, particularly because of a certain individual. Shuusei himself had been encouraging Hotsuma to open up to other people, helping him with his anxieties, and yet underneath the surface there was a growing fear of inadequacy, of the approaching day when Hotsuma wouldn't need him anymore. As he rebuked his partner, reassuring him in his uniquely brash way that he definitely needed him, and always would, the topic was brought up quite suddenly.

_Yuki._

He thought about it briefly, and there was definitely something there, a feeling of longing towards the now reachable God's Light. The Zweilt didn't all feel it the same way, but it was definitely there. For Hotsuma it was a strong urge to protect, to shield the boy from anything that might try to dim that radiance. He wondered for a second what it felt like to Shuusei, who'd admitted that he struggled to feel strongly about anything but Hotsuma.

It was obvious that Shuusei wasn't going to be convinced with just words, so he'd gone straight for the root of the problem. Grabbing the opening of his partner's shirt, he'd torn it open roughly, buttons flying in every direction as he laid a hand on the very thing that he'd avoided all of this time. The skin was smoother than he'd thought it would be, and it was warm like the rest of his body, heartbeat pulsing a little faster than normal underneath this record of their past. He'd vowed to never look away from those scars again, and he was going to stick to that promise. Shuusei needed him more than he'd thought, and he couldn't bear to be without his partner.

"Goddammit!" Hotsuma hissed again, wincing as the needle pricked his index finger for the second time in a short while. He was almost finished now, with one button after this left to reattach, and he could feel his finger throbbing. He just wasn't cut out for this sewing crap, but he'd promised Shuusei that he'd fix the shirt… and then Shuusei had just gone and told him that he wanted to wear something sewn by Hotsuma, all the while wearing _that_ _smile_. The heat that'd risen in his cheeks from that remark was entirely unnecessary, he told himself angrily.

He uttered a stronger swear and dropped the needle as he stabbed just a little deeper into his finger this time, in almost the same spot as before. He watched a bead of blood well up from the wound, jamming it into his mouth to make sure he didn't mark the shirt. The last thing he needed was Shuusei making him break out the stain remover too.

"I hope yer happy with the punishment, Shuusei," He grumbled to the boy sitting next to him, brandishing his finger. "I've become a human pincushion for ya!"

Shuusei smirked ever so slightly. "Well, you were the one who decided to forgo the normal procedure to opening a shirt," he replied, a teasing glint to his eyes. His fingers wrapped around Hotsuma's hand as he drew a little closer. "Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

Hotsuma went straight for his usual reaction at this point, which was a sort of spluttering protest accompanied by a lobster-red flushing of his cheeks. "Idiot Shuusei! What kinda—"

His sentence was cut short mostly by surprise, as a soft pair of lips brushed gently over the cut on his finger.

It took him just a little while to come back to coherency, since this was something new from Shuusei. Sure, he'd teased him before, _a lot_, but making a move on the teasing was unprecedented. Plus there was the fact that it actually did seem to work.

"Don't be ridiculous, Hotsuma," His partner replied, making him realise that he'd voiced that last part out loud, "I can't actually take away your pain." And Hotsuma could see it coming even before there was a slight darkening behind Shuusei's eyes, a lowering in the tone of his voice. "I'm not Yuki."

Damn it, he hadn't meant to steer the conversation this way, towards all of Shuusei's insecurities again.

"Well then I'll just hafta prove it works!" Hotsuma declared, seizing the wrists of his partner as gently as he could manage. He wanted to get away from the gloomy mood that threatened to form again, and being a creature of spontaneity, he took action. If the other Zweilt could make him feel better, then surely it'd work the same if he did it too? Shuusei's wrists were mostly healed by now, but he could still see the faint marks where thorny vines had dug into the skin as they held up his lifeless- _no, don't think about that part, Hotsuma_. He traced the scratches lightly with the pads of his thumbs, before bringing the wrists to his lips and pressing a firm kiss on each.

"Well?" He demanded, lifting his head to look up at the other boy. His hands still gripped at his wrists, a light pressure that demanded an answer.

He wasn't expecting the astonished look on his partner's face.

"What?" Hotsuma challenged, searching the other boy's face for answers. "Not feeling it yet, huh? Alright then, I'll do some more!"

Grasping Shuusei's left forearm before the other boy could make a move to escape, he pressed his lips to the fabric covering his upper arm, where the spinning blade of one of the Opast they had fought earlier had rent a long gash. Although Yuki had mostly healed the wound, the remainder was still bandaged underneath the shirt, and briefly Hotsuma wondered if Shuusei could feel the light pressure underneath all of the coverings. He felt the limb jump underneath his touch as his fingers followed, tracing the gash from start to finish, towards where his partner's face watched warily, something foreign hidden in the apparent calm of his expression.

As he straightened up to face the other boy, he couldn't help but notice they'd ended up in a similar position to when Hotsuma had ripped the buttons of the shirt he was supposed to be mending right now. He was perched on the edge of Shuusei's lap, knees falling either side of his partner's, hands gripping lightly on thin shoulders. He was waiting for another comment about him being a letch to leave Shuusei's lips, looking for that sly teasing smile as he said it.

It never came.

Instead he felt a hand slide up to the side of his face, and before he could ask why Shuusei hadn't said anything, it was joined by a soft pair of lips.

The light touch lingered on his cheek, maintaining contact with the plaster covering the scrapes from his fight with Ashley. Heat rose to meet those lips, skin flushing beneath the contact; he could feel his pulse pounding against him, and wondered if Shuusei could feel it through skin that suddenly felt entirely too thin. His breath came erratically now, stirring the hair near his partner's ear and causing a similar suffusion of heat in the other boy's cheeks. He could feel Shuusei's breath against his jaw, each puff of air sending a delightful shiver through the nerve endings. He wasn't sure what was happening right now; this was the most forward his partner had ever been in his presence. What exactly were they doing?

As he pondered their situation he felt Shuusei's head shift slightly, lips trailing without breaking contact towards the tiny abrasion at the corner of his mouth, slightly parted for laboured breaths to escape in rapid succession. His heart was thudding rapidly now, accompanied by a strange sensation bubbling away in stomach, and he noted that he was waiting in anticipation for his partner's next move. An ache was growing in his bones, an urge that he'd never had before towards the other boy. He fidgeted against the knees he was sitting on, a move that caused his partner to jump slightly again, causing a whole new set of reactions in his lower regions that he wasn't sure if he was entirely comfortable with. He was still half expecting Shuusei to turn to him and tease him about getting so worked up from a peck on the cheek (and that half was desperately hoping that he wouldn't look down anytime soon).

He was aware that he was avoiding eye contact with him as well, staring past the side of his partner's head, hoping that his cheeks weren't as bright red as he suspected them to be. Whatever it was that was happening now, so different to their usual interactions, Hotsuma was sure with every fibre of his being that he wanted it to continue. He felt those lips brush (_finally_) against the corner of his own, and suddenly it was pretty difficult to continue breathing. How had he done it before, without ever noticing? In went the air, sucked through the small opening that his mouth was frozen in, out again, mingling with that of the boy he was currently perched on. The contact was unmoving, like Shuusei was testing the waters, a constant presence as they both contemplated crossing some sort of line. The ache was a burning need now, but he didn't want to be too rash with Shuusei; he knew that this was something unprecedented for the other boy, so he waited, mouth straining to keep still against the hot breaths that fell against his face in rapid succession.

Just when he could stand it no longer, he felt movement, felt those lips moving closer to where he wanted them, and moved his in kind, shifting his head to align with his partner's, mouths meeting properly for the first time. It was a gentle thing, small movements against each other, but the sensations generated definitely made Hotsuma feel a whole lot better. They stayed like that for a little while, lips slowly exploring each other, probing this unexplored boundary. Hotsuma moved to increase the pressure, eager to taste more of the unknown, but was disappointed when Shuusei broke contact, lips moving downwards at the same slow pace. When he reached Hotsuma's chin he continued along the jaw line, down the side of his neck to where more bandages covered his skin. Hotsuma made a rather embarrassing gasping sound as his partner explored the length of gauze, moving his lips round to his throat as he followed the line of the injury, and tilted his head back automatically to feel more of Shuusei's explorations. He put a hand behind him for support, jacket dropping from one shoulder, noting that his other hand had come to rest on the other boy's stomach at some unknown point in time. The other Zweilt followed him as his body tilted, hands brushing the collar of his T-shirt as they descended, heading for the hem that concealed the worst of his injuries.

He was leaning back on an elbow now, lower half still pressed flush against the heat of Shuusei's lower thighs, as his partner's hands passed lightly over the hem of his shirt, gripping the edges and pushing the fabric upwards to expose the muscles of Hotsuma's abdomen. The wound he'd gotten here still pulsed with pain every now and then, but as soon as Shuusei's hands got near, it was like it faded away into insignificance. His skin jumped under the touch of the other boy's palms and fingers, weaving their way slowly towards the gauze on his left side, and he was suddenly aware of how close Shuusei was to the place where heat surged like no other, the tightness in his trousers surely noticeable to the boy whose face moved to connect to his wound, lips burning through the bandage and replacing all the pain with that _unbearable ache_.

The other boy's face wasn't visible from this angle, which was good for the fact that his partner therefore couldn't see the expression that accompanied his loud hiss as Shuusei kissed all over the gauze, taking care not to agitate the wound, but bad for the fact that he really wanted to see what Shuusei looked like right now; what was he thinking? Those hands were lightly grasping at either side now, thumbs tracing circles around his exposed hip bones, and he cursed himself for the pathetic whimper that escaped from between his teeth.

He was swept suddenly with the feeling that he needed to be touching Shuusei- he needed his hands to be on his partner's skin, exploring a territory previously forbidden for him. He needed to be _closer_. They'd shared many embraces before this, but what they were doing now went far beyond any level of intimacy he'd ever experienced with the other boy, and he wanted _more_. Plus it didn't seem fair that he was the only one being made to feel better, he reasoned; it was just like Shuusei to be concerned with Hotsuma's wounds and not his own.

Hand lifting the other boy's head up level with his own, he stuttered his intentions even as deft fingers swept across a sensitive area of his chest. "A-ah Shuusei… you too." Their eyes locked, and Hotsuma was finally able to see his partner's expression, unfocused with just a slight touch of hunger buried deep within those golden eyes. "I wanna make ya feel better too."

Surging forwards, pressing his weight against Shuusei's thighs to tip him back, his fingers went straight for the buttons on his partner's shirt, fumbling as they struggled to release each one from the hole. His fingers felt about ten times their usual size, blood rushing through his limbs in a dizzying rhythm, and he had to swat away the other boy's fingers as they tried to assist.

"Stubborn as always, Hotsuma."

The name rolling off his tongue was a fire in this situation, growing in his ears and roaring downwards. Resisting the urge to just rip open the shirt as he'd done earlier (although that could lead to another situation like this, he mused), he managed to work each menace free, exposing the pale expanse of his partner's chest, marred near the collarbones by scars that he was responsible for.

He stared at them, held by his promise, then placed his lips at the starting position between the two burns, over the faint remnant of a cut made by that Ashley bitch. The taste of the skin underneath his lips was intoxicating, hot and salty and entirely Shuusei. How long had he wanted to know this taste? How long had he been harbouring these kinds of feelings towards his partner without realising them for what they were? He had always held special feelings for the other boy (how could he not, when he was the only thing keeping him going through the pain and the isolation?), but never had he felt this _wanting_.

The sound that Shuusei emitted was an added surprise, a low gasp accompanied by hands gripping the flesh around Hotsuma's ribs, a response that caused him to involuntarily move against his partner's thighs, heat and electricity surging through his belly. As he moved towards his next goal, however, the gasp turned into something more serious, his partner moving to pull his head away from his ministrations, palms gently cupping his cheeks.

"Hotsuma…" Shuusei began, and it was a mark of their vow to be honest to each other that he could see the pain reflected in those eyes. "Wait. You don't have to…"

"Shut up." He growled in response, hands coming up to cover Shuusei's. "I promised ya that I'd never look away from them again." He pulled the hands away, setting them on either side of the boy as his own moved to spread open Shuusei's shirt, slipping the sleeves from his shoulders to expose the entirety of his scars. His partner was struggling with the urge to cover himself, Hotsuma knew, but to his credit he resisted, allowing Hotsuma a view he had only glimpsed before. The scars stretched from chest to shoulder on both sides, skin stretched and puckered in a chaotic pattern, their colour stark against the rest of the boy's fair skin. They were a part of Shuusei, an indelible mark of their bond, and like his partner, they were beautiful. He leaned down to press a kiss on the left one, something chaste that grew in passion as he increased the pressure and flicked his tongue softly against a dip in the marred skin.

"H-Hotsuma!" His partner gasped above, hands gripping the back of his shirt as he squirmed against the other boy. Glancing up briefly, he saw a mixture of emotions; there was definite pleasure in that expression, evident in the panting mouth and glazed expression, but there were also tears threatening to emerge if unchecked, a sign of how much this meant to Shuusei. It also appeared that this was a particularly sensitive area, he realised, fingers exploring the patch of scar tissue that he wasn't currently occupied with, and somewhere in the back of his brain a note was made of that particularly delicious fact.

His mouth moved onwards, leaving the bottom of his scars and continuing towards where the second mark stood out, a scratch in the midst of an unblemished chest. His palms roved over the bumpy outline of his ribs, moving outwards to caress down his sides to where hipbones waited, jutting out sharply against his fingers.

"Goddamn it, Shuusei, ya need to eat more!" Hotsuma exclaimed, briefly breaking contact before returning to his explorations.

Suprisingly this delivered a chuckle from Shuusei. "Always saying exactly what's on your mind," his voice floated down from somewhere above Hotsuma's head, amusement evident in his tone. Fingers threaded through his hair briefly, an affectionate tug against his scalp, then retracted back to their owner's side.

"…I'll try." He continued after a little stretch of silence, voice almost too quiet to hear; Hotsuma smiled against skin as he kissed each rib gently.

His hands were all over the other boy now, making sure no patch of skin was left unexplored, as his mouth trailed down to the last gash in his partner's abdomen. His tongue tasted the skin around the wound as he moved in to place another chaste kiss over the small mark.

He leaned back a little to take in the situation. At some unknown point in this healing dance of theirs, Shuusei had leant backwards until he was flat on the couch, legs now unbent under Hotsuma's, who had shifted down the seat a little so that he straddled his partner's lower limbs. He briefly wondered how they had gotten here without really noticing. Shuusei lay spread underneath him, hair mussed against the cushions, face a lust-filled shade of crimson. His mouth was open and panting, breaths coming in rapid succession, and his hands fisted into the fabric of the sofa cushions. The disarray of his clothes exposed the entirety of his upper body, splotches of pink marking Hotsuma's ministrations, and revealed those scars in all their glory.

He was perfect.

And Hotsuma could stand the ache no longer.

He knew that Shuusei was in the same situation as himself right now, could tell from the way his eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed with something akin to hunger, and so he continued onto his next target.

"This looks a little painful too," He mused to his partner, descending on the place that needed his attention the most.

"H-Hotsuma-ah!" The voice of his partner called to him through the roaring in his ears. "W-Wait!"

Confused at the instruction, he looked up puzzled and a little dismayed. Did Shuusei not want this? Why had he let Hotsuma get this far, then? He should've stopped before they got to this point, before he realised that he wanted to be closer to his partner than they'd ever been, something that was now impossible and-

"Hotsuma."

He focused on the boy calling his name and felt two hands on his face again, pulling him back up the length of Shuusei's body (splayed out red and hot and needy) to where their lips could meet, more urgent this time. It was a short kiss, and their faces remained in close proximity as Shuusei spoke, near breathless.

"Hotsuma, stop pouting," The other Zweilt smirked, lips brushing his sweetly. "I don't mean that we should stop doing… _this_," He gestured to their state of near-undress as he spoke, "I just meant that we should _both_ be feeling better, instead of just me." His hand trailed down Hotsuma's abdomen once again at his words, skin jumping underneath the walking fingers, until they reached his jeans…

* * *

"Shuusei," He heard himself gasp, "Shuusei…"

Shuusei seemed as lost for words as himself, murmuring Hotsuma's name every now and then in a haze of delirium. Hotsuma just about managed to shunt his body over to the right, slumping onto the couch next to the prone body of the other boy, still as close as they could possibly be without actually being joined. As his thoughts began to return, he leaned into Shuusei's chest, still heaving a little with exertion, and placed his lips to those scars once more, an affirmation that it wasn't just in the heat of the moment that he had acknowledged them; they were an eternal part of Shuusei, and therefore were one of the many things he loved about the other boy. He would carry at least part of the guilt with him for the rest of his life, he knew, but at the same time he was aware that the only reason he could do that was because his partner had gotten those scars making sure Hotsuma continued to live.

And he would do the same, he thought strongly, raising his gaze to meet the stare of his partner, sharper now that the moment was passing. He'd used his voice, his accursed gift from some cruel bastard of a god, to bring Shuusei back when he'd given up hope. And as Shuusei had been supporting Hotsuma through his darkest moments, so would he support the other boy through everything that he'd been hiding before today.

They would live. Together.

"We should probably get cleaned up," Shuusei's voice broke through his reverie.

"Oh, um," He uttered, suddenly feeling really awkward. "Sorry, I-I guess…"

Shuusei smiled back at him, swinging his legs over the side of the sofa and standing up, back to Hotsuma.

"Oh, that's alright, I'll just go take a bath now- no one else will be in there this time of day. It'll be completely _empty_ in there…" The smouldering look in his eyes as he looked back told Hotsuma all he needed to know.

Motivation suddenly came in bursts, and he quickly moved to get up, only to be pushed back into the seat by his partner.

"_Oh no_, Hotsuma, you still need to finish fixing those buttons you tore off earlier," The older boy smirked, buttoning his shirt to conceal the evidence of their activities. "Though if you take too long, I can't guarantee that I'll still be there…"

He waltzed out of the room in the most seductive manner Hotsuma had ever seen, shutting the door gently behind him.

Hotsuma snatched up the shirt from where it had fallen on the floor.

* * *

**Thanks for reading my first foray into UraBoku fanfic! Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are love!  
**


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